who are we without our clothes, our bodies, our salaries
if we strip the man to his bare naked soul
what are we?
all the things we use to fill the momentary void
smiles and hellos
a token gift to forgive our absence
simply to buy each other with our colognes and clothes.
every being incessantly crying to be noticed to be loved
whether by god, man, or bank account
the madness never ends
the cons never stop
men literally selling their souls for a piece of bread
so here we are psychologically and physically fighting for socioeconomic leverage
only to meet a cold six foot grave and a disturbed and guilty conscience